


You'll take the high road

by CapoTara



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: F/M, I'll add more tags as it goes on!, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 01:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapoTara/pseuds/CapoTara
Summary: At the beginning of September 1942, the population of Camp Toccoa, Georgia, was one hundred percent male and one hundred percent American.By the 15th, it was up two Brits - one of whom was a woman.Safe to say, that turned a few heads.





	1. Chapter 1

Currahee

 

Camp Toccoa

September 15th,1942

 

It hadn’t rained in weeks. Dust hung in the air like a thick blanket, kicked up by the countless marches and hikes the men had to slog through day in and day out. Mid day was slowly approaching - the sun sluggishly rolling to its highest point in the sky, bearing down on the men of Easy company as they stood at attention. They were gathered just a bit away from the barracks, in full combat gear and rifle, sans the rest of their packs. What they wouldn’t have given for a little shade, or a quick gulp of water before the Lieutenant arrived. They had been stood like this for over twenty minutes now.

Some of the privates were beginning to get nervous, shifting on their feet and glancing between each other and the sandbags assembled on folding tables behind them, watching as they slowly bent with the weight of it.  
“Think he forgot about us?” Luz leant forward to whisper to Toye, pushing his helmet up and away from his eyes. The other man didn’t move.   
“Luz, shut the fuck up.” He hissed.  
“I'm jus’ sayin we've been here -”

“Who talked?” Sobel hollered, suddenly appearing at the back left of the company, weaving between the men. “Who broke silence?!”  
When no one offered any names his scowl deepened - nothing on any of the men's faces gave it away. “If you expect me to take you to war when you can't keep your mouths shut for five minutes, you are sorely mistaken!” He came to stand still at the front of the group, pacing back and forth and trying to read the expressions of the assembled men. No one moved - most tried to not even blink, staring blankly out onto the rest of the camp so as to not give their commanding officer any reason to single them out. Skip felt the sweat rolling down the back of his neck start pooling at his shoulder blades - he still wasn't used to the Georgia heat - and he so desperately wanted to shift position to relax his back some. He couldn't. Sobel would be on him in an instant, like a rabid dog that has finally found a creature to attack.

“Is that dirt on your trousers, Hoobler?!” Suddenly the lieutenant was on the young private, faces so close that some spit landed on his cheek. He was as ruthless as ever - the US had only declared war a short time ago, and these men had been training under him for even shorter still, yet already his daily beratement was starting to wear them thin.  
“Yes sir it is, sir!” Hoobler responded, removing the bolt from his rifle and proffering it to his superior. Sobel didn’t even bother to glance at it, instead opting to stare down the poor private trying not to quiver in front of him.  
“Why in the hell do you have dirt on your trousers, private?!”  
“I tripped, sir!”

_He shouldn't have said that_ , Winters thought. Even if the men wanted to say something, they couldn’t. Behind him ,they silently watched as the tips of Hooblers ears turned pink and then red, hoping his face didn’t match. God knows what extra work Sobel would push onto him if he thought he was showing more _weakness_ .  
“Do you think you can be a paratrooper if you trip over every leaf that’s in front of you, Hoobler? A german could cough on you and you would drop dead! Take seventy, there and back, go!”  
“Sir yes sir!” The young private saluted, and ran to the back of the group to collect the full fifty pounds of weight he had been appointed. They had been assured earlier that they would not be running with full pack today. It was correct, in a way - they weren’t running full pack, they just had the weight of it instead.

Sobel continued to snake his way through the men, trying his best to force eye contact, to pressure anyone into flinching.  Toye and Guarnere gave each other the side-eye as he strode past. Luz tried not to smirk.  
“Name!” He finally barked out. It would have scared the men half to death if they hadn’t had weeks of this experience already.  
“Randleman, Denver, suh!” Like Hoobler before him, he unbolted and held out his weapon. The captain spent less than a second staring at it before pushing it away.  
“What’s this? What's this!?” He roared, pointing at a spot by the sights on the privates rifle. Randleman glanced down - he couldn’t see anything.  
“You get ninety, Randleman, you can take it! Go!” It could have been a small grain of dust, or perhaps he thought his reflection looked too shiny in the metal of the rifle - it didn’t matter. What mattered was it was _wrong_ , and being wrong in his company meant extra weight. The expression on Randleman’s face when he turned to grab his bags was sour enough to put a lemon to shame - it took all their strength for Toye and Guarnere not to break out in grins. Even so, it wasn’t enough.

“Guarnere, Toye, Muck! Take eighty _each_ for insubordination!” Skip’s face was a picture, that’s for sure. He hadn’t even been stood near the others.  
“The rest of you, grab sixty - we’re going round the camp, four miles! Let’s go!” Sobel took off running to the north of camp, already catching on Randleman and Hoobler. Skip scowled at his comrades and punched Toye in the arm as he slunk past. “I wasn’t even near you guys!”   
“You think he cares, Skip?”  
“Yea quit  whinin’ Skip! jus get ya extra twenty an start fucken’ runnin!” Guarnere snapped, swinging the full eighty pounds onto his back and starting off in a quick jog.  
“C'mon fellas, get your bags and lets go. The sooner you get em on the sooner it gets done and you don’t want to be on mile three when that sun up there hits one.” Winters, ever the mediator, swung his own weights onto his back and waited for the rest of his men to gear up before taking up the rear.

They were halfway through the first lap of the base when they saw the Jeep roll up. Still too far away to really make out who was arriving, the men paid it no mind and focused on keeping their breathing steady and their eyes facing forwards. Well, that is until the tiny flag sticking out from the car’s window caught their attention. Red, white, blue, and flapping in the wind - usually this wouldn’t have been such a surprise.

The only issue was, it was the wrong red white and blue.

“Is that Colonel Sink?” Skip piped up from the back. Sobel was too far forward to hear them, he hoped - still barking insults at Hoobler to even notice that the guys fifty feet behind him had started to lag a little more than usual.  
“Yeah, but who’s that with him?”  
“Limeys, looks like it. Ya can tell cuz they walk like they got a stick up they’ ass.” Guarnere grumbled. Adjusting his bags more firmly across his shoulders, he sped up a little, trying to get at least to the middle of the group to get a better look at the new arrivals in Toccoa.  
“Ya, also cos they’ve got their god damn flag flyin’ on the side of the Jeep, dumbass.” Toye smacked him on the head as he jogged past, earning snickers from the rest of the men in the rear.

Slowly but surely, the men advanced around to the entry gate and were finally able to glance at the newcomers. Sink was shaking hands with a man - a captain, Winters though, judging by the three stars on his epaulettes. He had on a crisp khaki officers uniform, muddy blonde hair that was slicked tightly down on his head, and a dark beret. He looked nervous - Winters likened his expression to a small child worried he was about to be caught with his hand in the cookie jar as his eyes darted between the approaching men and the Lt. Colonel. Nodding to the other officers encircling Sink and gesturing to his left, he stepped to the side to reveal his compatriot that had been mostly obscured behind him. Hoobler and Randleman, being at the front, saw them first.  
“Is that a gal?” Hoobler gasped, stumbling over his own feet at the sight. He changed a glace to Randleman - the man didn't look too bothered with the extra weight, but the sight of the newcomers had certainly raised his eyebrows.

She was tall, a slight taller than the officer next to her - and that was without heels. A cypress green beret matching the Captains was firmly fixed to her head, nut brown curls pinned back out of her face and rested softly just above her shoulders. Her uniform was pressed and clean, a skirt draping over thick hips to give way at the knee to bare legs and smart black shoes. She was stood at ease beside him, left arm firmly clasped behind her back and mouth pressed into a friendly but tight smile as she shook Sinks hand. Her eyes flashed to the approaching company, and Hoobler caught a flash of a smile directed at him before she returned her eyes to the Lt. Colonel.  
“If you have enough breath to talk you have enough breath for 10 more pounds, private! Do you want me to send you back there to pick them up?” Lieutenant Sobel roared at Hoobler, falling on deaf ears. More men were starting to notice the Brits stood up ahead - the general pace of the run decreased from determined to leisurely so they could gawk at their leisure.

“Sobel!” Sink called, motioning to the lieutenant to slow down. He was grinning as he clapped a friendly hand down on the British Captains shoulder, who winced slightly at the contact. “Come here, son, I want you to meet someone!”  
“Yes Sir! Winters! Take over, I'll be watching to make sure the men aren't slacking!” Sobel took off into a quick sprint, veering off to the side of the track to stand amongst the assembled officers. A few men let out harsh chuckles over how eager he had seemed - most were just glad to finally have him out of earshot.  
“Lieutenant, I want you to meet Captain Wood, British Intelligence Corps. He and his assistant here are going to be observing us for a while, get a feel of what American troops are like. Easy is the best company we have here; I thought they'd enjoy looking over you and your men for a few weeks.”

“That wouldn't be a problem sir, Easy won't disappoint.”  
“I'm sure we're in for quite a treat.” The woman spoke up, grinning broadly at Sobel and then at the men now running past. They jogged with mouths agape, watching, wondering why the British were paying them a visit at all.  
“Miss Charlotte Vasey, lieutenant - I hope we won’t be too much of a distraction for the men!” She offered her hand to shake, and he took it - cold, callosed, and with a grip so firm Sobel thought he was shaking the hand of someone like Sink. But then she pulled back, clasped her hands behind her back and smiled sweetly. _Just another pretty face_ , he thought, r _unning the secretarial work of the war, while the men could deal with the real work._ He nodded to her, and offered his hand to Captain Wood, too focused on the more important introduction to notice the men of Easy company now being blatantly disrespectful with their stares.

She cocked her eyebrow as the men jogged past, still smiling brightly. Slower, trying to get a better look at her now Sobel was distracted, they made no attempt to hide how they were outright leering at her. Her bare legs, her chest, a few even dared to be so bold as to chance a look at her eyes - cloudy and grey as the skies of England. She watched their eyes roam, impassive. These boys were nothing special just yet. They were hardly into their basic training, and still a long way off from even thinking about earning their wings. Nothing to write home about and certainly nothing she should be worried about. She caught the eye of Guarnere, who shot her a wink before speeding off as if on fire - not before he heard her let out a huff of laughter at the cheek of it.  
“Captain Wood, Ma’am. If you would follow Pierce here to the officers barracks we can get you all set up - Lieutenant, if you could report to my office after you’ve finished up with Easy, we can get the Captain briefed on their training regimen for the next few weeks or so.” The men watched them climb into a new Jeep and drive off towards the middle of camp - and failed to hide their laughter when the woman turned in her seat, spotted Guarnere again, and winked back.

“Ey, see that fellas?” The man called behind him when the group was a safe distance away from Sink and Sobel. ”I think she likes me! Hafta see if I can take er out next time I get a pass.”  
"Take er out? Gonorrhea, you’d have to put on heels to even get eye to eye with her!” A private groaned. Guarnere shoved him playfully.

“Ey you ain't much better Perconte, ya fuckin ankle biter!”

 

\-----------------------

 

The sun had given away to a cool, dry evening, and the men were gathered in the mess hall to collect their supper before hitting the hay. It had been another exhausting day of endless PT, discipline drills and bunker inspection and the men were thoroughly worn out. Despite this they seemed determined to gossip and speculate about the sights they had seen today, however brief they may have been.  
“Hey, Hoobler, did you get a good luck at the gal? I tried, but I had too many fat heads blocking my view.” Skip shot a couple of sour glances across the mess hall towards Guarnere and Toye, who were too invested in their slop and own gossip to pay him any mind.  
“Sure did! Dark hair, pretty eyes, skin as pale as pearl. Gosh, what a beauty. I’d give Sobel a piggyback up and down Currahee to get a kiss from a gal like that.”

“Yea, you an every other guy in the company. You hear Bill earlier? Imagine if they went out - the dame would be the one carrying ‘im home!” Luz laughed.  
“The lady ain’t that big.” Bull was absentmindedly pushing the meatloaf around his tray. If he was being honest, the run earlier had tired him out so much that he couldn’t even be bothered to chew, let alone think about what it is he was chewing. Sure, he was a big guy, but _thirty extra pounds?  
_ “Not that big? Thats easy comin from you, Bull, if _you_ gave _her_ a piggyback up Currahee, you two’d blot out the sun!”   
“Careful what ya say, boy-”

“A-ten-hut!” Chairs scraped and trays dropped in a cacophony of sound as the Lt.Colonel and the new visitors were ushered into the mess hall. The quick glare Bull shot at Luz was wholly missed as all eyes focused on the main doors. Winters and Nixon were first in, quickly followed by Warrant officer Pierce, Lt.Colonel Sink, Captain Wood and finally Miss Vasey.  
“As you were gentlemen, take a seat. I've got a few introductions to make.”  
After spending the whole day gossiping, they were finally able to get a good look at the Brits; specifically, Miss Vasey. Sure, Hoobler had mentioned all the main parts - tall, long legs, looks a little bit like Peggy Lee - but it was just now that it struck the men at how...British she looked. Captain Wood, too. Both of them were ridiculously pale, obviously being used to the mandatory one week of English summer per year, already having a blanket of red burn over the bridge of their noses and cheeks where they had caught the sun. Now they were closer, the men were able to notice the faint smattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones that started to hook downwards on the left side of her face as they got to her eye. And how Captain Wood had a nasty, ugly red scar peeking out of the collar of his uniform. _That_ raised some eyebrows.

“This right here is Captain Wood and his assistant, Miss Vasey. Now I’m told Wood here has already seen some action in Dunkirk-“ Sink paused to turn to Wood, letting him confirm with a nod before turning back to the men. “So I don’t want any of you trying to get all wise-ass with him just because he’s a Limey!” A few chuckles rippled through the room. Woods’ grin made it obvious he knew it was in jest, but Miss Vasey seemed to bristle somewhat at the comment. Bull and Hoobler exchanged a look - they had both caught it.  
“They’re going to be watching you boys while they’re here, get an idea of what we in the good old US of A excel especially at. I’m told it’s going to help us better deploy you in the field, wherever that may be.”  
They watched as Vasey stepped forward somewhat, quickly tapping Sink lightly on the elbow, causing a surprised look to sprout onto his face before he nodded and took a generous step back. She moved forwards further, into his place, letting her eyes roam over the assembled faces of the mess hall. They might of imagined it, but some men swore she paused to study some faces more intently than others.

 Toye. Liebgott. Guarnere. Malarkey. Muck. Randleman. Hoobler.

“I know our arrival here may have been a bit of a distraction to you lads - I imagine it's a bit jarring to see us Brits anywhere outside of Europe.” She paused for a moment, allowing a nervous chuckle to ripple through the hall.  
“You don't have to worry, we're only here to observe,so please pretend we're not even here.” A smile broke out on her face. She moved her gaze again, this time pinning Guarnere down with it until he grew uncomfortable and averted his eyes to his slop. Bull watched her eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as she grinned wider, catching his eye for a split second before turning them to the broad assortment of men.  
“We would really appreciate your cooperation.”

“I want you men to show Captain Wood and Miss Vasey here the same respect you show me, is that understood?”  
“Sir yes sir!”  
Sink nodded to the men, and quickly exited back the way he came, Pierce trailing behind him. The other officers - Nixon and Winters - turned quickly on their heel to follow him out, eager to get to their own mess hall for dinner. Winters, however, was quickly stopped by an outstretched hand.  
“Second Lieutenant Winters, a word.”  
He nodded at her, pulling back somewhat from the leaving throng of officers and scoffing slightly when Nixon eyed the two of them suggestively. She led him to a quieter corner of the mess hall, next to the windows, and her smile dropped.

“I haven't been able to spot that Lt.Sobel of yours, Winters - I even stopped by the officers mess hall.” Her mouth was tight. Again she let her eyes roam the hall - the privates weren't even facing her direction any more, let alone trying to catch her eye.  
“He usually takes his meals separate from us, ma'am.”  
“Ah. Rightio. Well since you're the next best thing, would you mind pointing out the different squads and platoons? I'm afraid I can't make proper observations without knowing who's who.” In a swift motion she had pulled out a small black flip book and pencil, dabbing the end onto her tongue and looking to Winters expectantly.  
“Certainly ma'am, although they're a bit spread out right now. That man there is Sgt.Lipton, 2nd squad, with...”

 

“I told you! She was makin’ eyes at me!” Perconte whispered, careful not to look in her direction for fear she would know they were talking about her. It was a silly notion, really. Almost every man in the room was currently talking about her.  
“You wish she was, Perconte!” Martin was laughing. He didn't miss the way some of the privates were darting their eyes up towards the Miss and then back down to their slop - Hooblers ears had gone red again.  
“I wonder what they’re talking about.”  
“Gee, Perconte, I don’t know. Maybe they’re discussing the lovely weather we’re having, or perhaps how tired they are from the journey over?” Sarcasm laced Skips words as usual, shaking his head at Perconte who continued to shovel meatloaf into his mouth in between words.

“They’re talking about who's who. You can tell by how Winters is pointing about.”  
“Why does she need to know about that crap? Can't she just read it in filing?”  
“Beats me. Maybe She wants to match names to faces when she grades us.”  
“Grade us?” Martin raised an eyebrow.  
“Yea, you heard her. They're here to ‘observe’. They're probably going to report back to Sobel or even Sink on how well we're doing in our training - those limeys have their own ‘troopers, they're probably here to compare us.” Skip grumbled.

Of course, they already knew the British had their own paratroopers - not that they were much more experienced, as far as they knew their cousins across the pond hadn't made any jumps yet either. Were these two here to draw comparisons between their training, seem some men unfit and get them kicked out? Every man was here because he wanted to be here. To be transferred out on the word of some English bastard...well, it didn't bear thinking about. Hoobler stopped trying to steal glances at her.   
“Just keep your head down when she's about, alright? Pretend she's another Sobel.”  
“Ey, I don't want to be thinking of that sonofa bitch the way I've been thinkin’ bout her.” Perconte grunted, shoving his elbow into Skips side as he tried to get the image of Sobel in thigh highs out of his head, shuddering all the while.

It seemed as though her talk with Winters was concluded - she was shaking his hand when Bull glanced up, trying in vain to read their lips so as to get even a slight inkling of what they had been talking about. She left the Lt. with one last tight smile before looking around once more, nodding to herself and turning briskly out of the mess hall. The men looked to Winters, questions in their expressions - did she have some ulterior motive or was she, as she had simply put, _here to observe_ ? Winters gave them a pitying look and shrugged his shoulders  as if to say _I don’t know either, boys._

 

\------------------

 

The men’s original plan to keep their heads down and out of the way of the British had failed before it could even be put into action.  This was entirely due to the fact that when they stumbled from their bunkers, bleary eyed at the 0500 bugle call, she was there - stood outside the officers barracks she had taken residence in, notebook in hand and half-smoked cigarette dangling from her lips. And when they left the mess hall later that morning, headed for a PT session, she was there. When they left to shower, she was there - when they managed to drag themselves back to the barracks at night, she was there. Writing in her small flip  notebook the whole time. The privates very rarely saw Captain Wood, if at all - some days they even forgot he was at camp. Miss Vasey, however, was quickly dominating their thoughts.

At first, she kept quiet solely to herself. She didn’t approach the men and the men didn’t approach her - she seemed pretty content in standing aways from them, not listening to their conversations and not getting involved. The men barely wanted to meet her eye, let alone strike up a conversation with her. If they were being honest her constant presence was rather unnerving, and the fact that she smiled all the while didn’t really help none. It was approaching the second week of the Brits’ stay now - most of the men of Easy were outside, shooting hoops in the small rec facility the camp offered. As usual, Vasey was sat off to one side, sorting through a large stack of papers and writing notes intermittently.

“Oh! He shoots, he scores!” Skip slapped a palm down on Malarkey's bare back, making the man wince and laugh at the same time. The rest of his team crowded round him - Bull, Popeye and Luz all pulling and shoving at him playfully     
“What’s that now, two five to the skins?” Luz grinned, raising his eyebrows at the opposing team.  
“Hey that’s not fair, you got Bull on ya team.” Perconte complained, pulling the bottom of his shirt up to dab the sweat off of his brow. He had really wanted to play on the other team.  
“Now boy, don’t use me as an excuse - you got plenty of opportunity to shoot. Don’t go blamin’ ya stubby arms on me.” They hear a huff of laughter, and all heads whipped round to stare at Vasey, thinking she had been watching them the whole time - they assumed she'd been too far away to hear anything. She continued to chuckle, looking from one paper to the next, and the men relaxed when it looked like she'd found the comic strip in the local newspaper. Well, most of the men.

“Ah I’m sick of this shit.” Toys grumbled, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his palm and then wiping that on his shirt.  
“What?”  
“Her standin round all the time and us not knowin if we should sit down, stand up or start singin’ the star spangled fuckin banner.”  
“Ey, Joe, jus’ leave it alright?” Luz tried to placate him, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder and slowly pulling him back to the center of the court.  
“Nah, nah, I don’t think I will.” He was shaking his head and had balled his hands into fists, and Luz knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t back down now.  
“Ey Joe cmon-”

“Hey, hey ma’am? Miss Vasey?” Joe called, wiggling out of Luz's grasp and jogging over to where the lady was sat before any of the guys could grab him again. She was sat one one of the benches to the side of the tarmac, different papers and folders scattered next to her, right hand smudged from wrist to pinky in led dust. Her head pulled up to face him, but her eyes stayed glued to the paper in her hand - eyes still scanning the words as the young private came to a stop in front of her.  
“Mh? Oh, yes, private...Toye was it?”  
“Yes ma’am, it is. I have a question for you, ma’am, if you don’t mind.” He cast a glance backwards at the group - Bull was shaking his head and Luz was making cut throat gestures to get him to quit while he’s ahead.  
“Ask away, private. I’ll answer best I can.”

“Well, y’see, me an the guys - we’ve been seein you round an awful lot - and we were just wonderin what you’ve been writin down in that little book of yours.” Her eyes quickly snapped upwards, promptly folding the paper she was reading in half and shuffling it into one of the stacks next to her.  
“They think you’ve been gradin us, or somethin...”  
"Let’s stick to the ‘or something’, shall we private?” She responded curtly, smiling, brushing her skirt off and standing up so quickly Toye had to take a sharp step back to avoid being headbutted. She fixed the guys with a long hard stare, before cocking an eyebrow and grabbing the notebook out of her breast pocket.

“Lets see… Ah yes. September 19th. Easy Company ran Currahee at approximately 0900 hours, first mile at an incline of around five degrees, second at an incline of around seven and third at an incline of nine gradually increasing to fifteen, in light personal training gear. Average time to reach the top was thirty five minutes; round trip up and down, totaling six miles, was fifty four minutes. Any privates that tripped or those that struggled with the incline were helped up by their fellow privates. Afterwards, a break of ten minutes was afforded before they began with a PT session led by Lt.Winters, lasting approximately one hour twenty five minutes… do you need me to go on?” Some privates at least had the decency to look ashamed. She grinned over at them, drinking in their embarrassment.    
“Lads, I can’t even match your faces to names at this point - how on god's green earth do you think I would go about grading you?”

“Well, I think we should change that.” Bill piped up from the back, emboldened with the memory of her reaction to his wink when she first arrived at camp.  
“William Guarnere, ma’am, from Philly. My pals call me Bill.” She stuck out her hand, and he took it softly only for her to nearly squeeze it off in a firm handshake, catching him off guard - he had expected to kiss it.  
“What you lyin’ for! We call you Gonorrhea, Gonorrhea!” Popeye cracked up from the back. Vasey broke out in a broad smile and the men finally gained the courage to start approaching her.  
"Ey, shut up you! Don’t be using words like that in front of the lady!”    
“Please, gentlemen, don’t censor yourself on my account. I can assure you I have heard much worse.”

“Hey, pay no attention to them. I’m George Luz - that over there is Liebgott, Hoobler, Malarkey, Skip and Perconte. Next to em is Powers and Wynn but we call em Shifty and Popeye. You’ve already met Gonorrhea and Toye. And that big lug over there is Bull.” She did her rounds, shaking the hand of every man pointed out to her, even if they were a little sweaty. She came to a stop in front of the last one.  
“Bull?" She laughed, looking him up and down. "It’s fitting. Not your actual name, I’d assume?”  
“No ma’am, it’s not. Denver, Randleman, ma’am.”  
“Denver. I must say I quite like that name!” Her eyes crinkled at the corners and he felt his do the same as he offered her a broad smile back.

“Well then. Toye, Muck, Perconte, Shifty, Popeye, Hoobler, Liebgott, _Gonorrhea_ and Bull. I shall do my very best to remember them all and hope I don't get you mixed up with some other Yankee bastards.” The boys laughed at that.  
“What about you?” Bill piped up.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?”  
“Do you prefer ma'am, or Miss Vasey?”  
“Oh, lord, neither. Ma’am reminds me of my mother and Miss Vasey makes me seem like a school teacher.”

“Well do you have any nicknames your pals back home call you?” Skip asked, not-so-subtly stretching his arms out and cracking his back.  
“Hm? Oh, yes, I’ve gained quite a few these past couple of years.” She snickered, wringing her hands together as if recalling something. Bull watched her movements and was quick to notice a small, thin scar, running from the knuckle on her index finger to just past her wrist of the left hand. He frowned. _Odd scar._

“Mostly my brothers used to call me Charlie - I only got called Charlotte when my mother or father was upset with me. Feel free to use that if you’d like, although I’d suggest caution when your superiours are around. Wouldn’t want you to get a bollocking for being cheeky to the Limeys.” A flirty wink to Guarnere had the lads laughing, already crowding around her like she was one of their own. She couldn’t say she minded it - for one, it had been getting somewhat lonely just sitting and watching, day in day out, and for two - well, half of these lads were shirtless. That was _hardly_ a bad thing, even if some of them were trying too hard to show off.

“Apologies for not introducing myself earlier - I intended to do so on my second day here however I was advised against it.” She did seem genuinely sorry; Malarkey felt bad for her and gave her a sympathetic smile.  
“By who?” He asked.  
“I’ll let you take a guess at that one, Private. That Lt.Sobel of yours said introducing myself would simply serve to distract you all from your training - he didn’t seem to like me very much.”  
“Shit, he don’t like anyone, much.” Bull grumbled, remembering last week's march. She cocked an eyebrow at him.  
“Well, I can’t say I’m too fond of him, either. But he does seem to be doing a bang up job of getting you lads in to proper form, that’s for sure.” She laughed, staring just a fraction of a second too long at the shirtless men in front of her before returning her gaze to Guarnere who was safely on the ‘shirt’ side of things. Bull and Malarkey exchanged a look, grinning at each other like loons.

Guarnere went about putting his plan into action.  
“You've been here for a coupla weeks now, you even stepped foot off the base yet?” She chuckled at him, all too aware of where the conversation was heading. And, be honest, she didn’t mind it.  
“The opportunity hasn’t presented itself yet, no.”  
“Howsabout you come into town with us on Saturday?”  
“Don’t go making promises ya can’t keep Bill - it’s only Thursday. Still got plenty of time for Sobel to revoke ya pass cuz’ ya sneezed wrong.” Malarkey chided.

“Well then, it seems like you boys should be on your best behavior at the march tomorrow night, hm?”  
“I hate that goddamn march…” Bull muttered, mostly to himself than anyone else. Vasey noticed and cocked an eyebrow, but made no comment on it otherwise.  
“I won’t be about tomorrow - meetings and reports to write, you see, so just to make sure we’re on the same page - where in town would you like to meet?”  
“Meet?”  
“You mean you don't wanna hitch a ride with us? We can make space, no problem.” Some of the men grinned, picturing her sandwiched between them - the road into town was _awfully_ bumpy, and wouldn’t it just be such a _shame_ if she had to hold onto any of them for balance...  
“Oh no, I’ll let you boys have a lie in - Wood has been frequenting the town in the early mornings, I'm sure he wouldn't mind driving me. I may do some shopping before you arrive.”

“Well, there's a little cinema off of main that we were planning to go to - they're showing that new Ginger Rogers movie at 11.”  
“Sounds like a plan!” She grinned, and the men smiled back. Now that they had talked to her for a spell, they were no longer concerned that anything she heard or anything they said to her would be reported up the chain. Honestly, she just seemed like a nice lady trying to do secretarial work - the men had gotten the wrong end of the stick when they assumed she’s been sent to essentially spy on them. There was something weird about her, for sure, but she was British - there was bound to be something off.  
“Look sharp now, boys - here comes Winters.” The men all turned to face the approaching officer, saluting at him while Vasey just nodded.

“Lieutenant.” She greeted, folding her arms behind her back and standing up straighter - not wanting anyone to think she was getting sloppy or disrespectful. Winters offered a soft smile in return, giving his own salute to the men.  
“Ma'am. Hope these fellas aren't hassling you too much.”  
“Quite the contrary, I fear I have been intruding on their recreational time far too long!” The assembled men whined and made faces at her - they had just started talking! - but she simply shook her head and began to gather up the assembled papers on the bench behind her. Hoobler rushed forward to help her, hurriedly shuffling random papers together and hoping they were in the right order. She smiled at him. His ears went red when she took the papers from him.

“Stay out of trouble, okay lads? Wouldn’t want to miss out on Miss Rogers now would we?” With a wink to Guarnere, she spun around and began on a brisk pace back to the officers building. The men watched her go with starry eyes and dry mouths. Some were worse off than others  
“What was that about?” Winters asked, turning to his men. They looked quite bashful, apart from Hoobler who was smiling down at his feet, and Guarnere who was obviously checking out Vaseys rear as she walked away. Bull noticed and whacked him upside the head.  
“Guarnere invited her out to the town with us on Saturday, sir. She hasn’t been off base yet and we thought we’d show her around.”  
“Well you already know what I'm gonna say. Don't act like idiots, especially tomorrow night. We don’t want to let the lady down now, do we?”  
“No sir!” They all piped up simultaneously, making Winters laugh and shake his head. He turned to leave, but made a point to glance around the rec area before calling over his shoulder and leaving them with some parting advice.

“And boys...don’t let the Lt. hear about this. Not unless you want to have to rearrange this little outing to a year from now.” The men laughed and slowly migrated back to the court proper, eager to soak up the rest of their free time in the sun before returning to their regular regime of eat, sleep, train, repeat. Bull took a moment to stare up at the sky as a single lazy cloud rolled past.

  
_I hope the weather stays this nice for Saturday,_ he thought. _And I hope she wears a dress._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How hard should it be for one man to stay clean and pressed for more than an hour?
> 
> In most other professions, this would be an easy task. 
> 
> Not so much in the Paratroopers.

Spotless

 

Camp Toccoa  
  
September 26th,1942

 

The sky was overcast and cloudy when the men rose for the bugle call at 0500. The march the previous night had ended surprisingly early; they had arrived back to their barracks at precisely 2200 and the men had attributed this quick finish to the lack of a certain Lieutenant. He had been suspiciously absent for most of Friday, not that they had minded - the men had only caught a glance of him sometime early in the morning when he’d been talking quietly to the British Captain, and hadn’t been seen since. This had caused no end of gossip amongst some of the louder recruits, and they had spent most of the day quietly speculating as to where he may be - was he going to work for the British? Was he getting transferred, or were the British commending him on his training techniques? Maybe he even got promoted? In any case, the chatter was a welcome distraction from the usual monotony of basic training, and served well in entertaining the men for most of Friday. Well, some of the men.

Others had more important things to worry about.

“You’d think that boy was on fire by how fast he sprinted outta here.” Bull grumbled, sluggishly rolling off of his cot and stretching his arms out in front of him. He let out a quiet groan as he felt his knees and elbows crack, standing up to straighten out his back and to turn towards the window at the front of the barracks. He squinted - it looked pretty grey out. He would have liked it to be sunny.  
“I dunno why he’s been actin’ so antsy. She’s just some broad.” Liebgott scoffed, swinging up into a sitting position and slotting a cigarette behind his ear. They had all watched as Hoobler sprinted out the door on the first note of the bugle call, shower gear and uniform already tucked neatly under his arm, a look of near panic on his face. He had taken this group-date more seriously than anyone could have imagined - a fact that had caused him to be the victim of a great deal of teasing throughout the training on Friday. The men had _almost_ started to feel bad for him.

“You wouldn't be sayin that if she were Jewish.” Luz laughed, giving Lieb's cot a playful kick. Liebgott made a face at him as he stood. When the other man turned away, he grabbed his towel and snapped it towards the shorter man’s ass - Luz jumped as it cracked into the air a fraction away from him, close but not _quite_ hitting him.  
“If she were Jewish I wouldn't be lettin’ you guys near her, that’s for sure.”  
“That dame's voice is pretty enough that she could be a Quaker for all I care.” Perconte sighed, gently folding his dress pants up. Bull glanced over and shook his head. They shouldn’t be getting so worked up about a lady they had only had one conversation with, in his opinion. He did admit that she seemed like a real nice gal - and her looking sweet as pie didn't hurt none - but he was reserving judgement on her for now. After all, all they had talked about was his name.  
“Would your ma let you even _think_ about not marryin a good Catholic girl, Perco?” Luz said.  
“Just cos I like lookin at her don’t mean I gotta marry her! Jeez louise, Luz, I’d have to marry half the girls in Joliet if that’s how it worked!”  
“Your ma ain’t like mine then.” Luz laughed as he gathered up his uniform. Some men in the barrack had started to slowly filter out, more interested in getting in line for the showers than to stay back gossiping - unlike Perconte.

“Whaddaya mean?” Perco asked.  
“Well, this one time I told my ma about a girl I liked in grade school. Come home the next day to find the gal and her parents sat in my livin’ room playin’ checkers with my old man! I wasn’t even 10 and she was tryna set me up!”  
“Percos ma’s just happy with a broad that can look at him without running away.” Liebgott sniggered. Perconte turned to him, incredulous, and threw his bar of soap at his face. Bull shook his head at them as he made his way towards the door.  
“You boys comin’ or you gonna sit there jabberin’ all day?” He cocked an eyebrow back at them - Luz, Liebgott and Perconte - before pushing through the door into the cool morning air. Luz and Liebgott took this as their cue to hurry up, grabbing their own stuff and following Bull out.  
“Yeah c’mon Perco, we ain’t gonna save you a space!” Luz called over his shoulder.  
“Keep ya pantyhose on, I’m comin…” Perconte grumbled, quickly gathering his stuff up - grabbing his thrown soap bar from the floor next to Liebgott’s bed - and jogging after them.

Slowly, the other men filed out of the barracks, blinking blearily at the day outside. The line to the nearest shower block was already around the building with NCOs that had been slower to rise. Luz spotted Christenson and Martin waiting in line at around the halfway point and made a beeline towards them, others following close behind. They managed to insert themselves into the line pretty easily - the guys behind made some complaint, but no one wanted to moan honestly about it. Liebgott was known for being somewhat of a short fuse and, well, Bull didn’t get his name because he was raised on a farm.

Well, not _entirely_ because he was raised on a farm.

“Hey fellas!” Luz greeted. “Seen Hoobler about?”  
“Hoobler? Nah, can’t say I have. Thought he was in you guys’ barracks though?” Christenson asked.  
“Yea, he is. Ran off at wakeup though, not sure where he’s got to.”  
“Maybe he’s ran off to wherever Sobel’s gone to!” Laughing, Christenson shuffled forwards in the line. Martin rolled his eyes.  
"You fellas excited to get offa base?"  
“Hell yes. Feels like weeks since we last had passes and not had em revoked.” Perco grumbled, just catching up with them and pushing in.  
“That's because it _has_ been weeks!” Christenson said. “I'm happy as larry. Gonna spend my day relaxin’ around town a while, call my ma and pa. What about you, Perconte?”

“You didn't hear? Perco has a _date_.” Luz piped up. Perconte elbowed him in the side and frowned when the men behind them started to snicker.  
“Yeah, one he's sharing with 10 other guys from Easy... ” Liebgott muttered.  
"Shut up Lieb - not like you ain't comin too." Christenson gave them a look, obviously not having been privy to some vital information.  
“Bill offered to take Miss Vasey out on the town - yknow, the Brit? - and half the company jumped to join em." Martin explained, making pointed eye contact with Bull and shaking his head. Bull smirked back. They had had a rather _long_ chat during training yesterday - mostly it was Martin asking questions about the miss, considering he hadn't been with the rest of the guys when she had been asked out. _Would you have liked to take her out, Bull?_ He had asked, shooting the taller man a sly wink and playfully jabbing at him. _I think I mighta._ Bull had replied. _Just ta’ see what Hoobs so caught up on._

"You're shitting me. Really?" Christenson said.  
"You think I could make somethin' like that up?"  
Christenson let out a low whistle of disbelief. "Can't think ol' Gonnorhea is happy about that."  
"I think he's happy enough that she talked to him, let alone agreed to go out with him. She's a nice gal." Luz grinned.  
"There's plenty other nice gals between here and Washington - ya don't all have to go out with the same one, yknow."  
"Yeah, but the dames in Washington don't have that pretty accent." Sighing, Perconte wedged his thumbs into his pockets and leaned back to stare off into the sky - obviously having some thoughts about the girl.  
“Hah, that’s for sure.” Christenson agreed. “You goin with em, Bull?”

“That’s right.” He smiled, folding his arms across his chest. “Someone's gotta make sure these boys don’t scare ‘er off.” A playful nudge to Perconte's shoulder brought him out of his daydreams and it took him a second to process what had just been said.  
“Ey, its Hoobler you’ll have to worry about scarin’ her, not me!” He held his hands up defensively, grinning when Liebgott elbowed him forwards. Like most of the men, Perconte had been speculating about the girl for the past couple of days. She was pale and freckled, did that mean she had some Irish roots? How old was she? Did she look like she was liking it here, or did she seem eager to get away? Was she courting someone already - and if she was - what did she think her sweetheart would say about her going out with a gaggle of men in some country far from home? In his defense, there wasn’t much else to think about. And he’d rather be thinking about her than _Sobel_.

"Perco couldn't scare the wings off a fly." Martin said, pushing past the doorway to get into the showers. Inside it was as humid as usual, the walls and floor littered with discarded clothing as men rushed to get clean and get out again as soon as possible. You were drenched practically as soon as you walked through the door.  
"Shut it peewee. Just cos you got a dame back home doesn't mean ya can make fun a’ me." The rest of the men followed, struggling past the surge of bodies exiting to get into the dimly lit interior and starting to strip. It was cramped, for sure, but at by now the men were used to the intimate conditions. Luz thought he could probably point out every man in the company that had a hidden tattoo by this point - even the _really_ hidden ones.  
"I don't have a _dame_ , peanut. I got a wife. It's a bit different." Martin grumbled. Perco rolled his eyes, miming _I got a wife_ when the other man turned around.  
"Ignore him, Johnny, he's just jealous of ya." Christenson said as he folded up his gear and headed into one of the stalls. Perconte scoffed at his retreating back.  
"What's there to be jealous of?"

Martin quirked his eyebrow at the other man - and when Perconte turned away, he wound up his towel and whipped it straight towards his naked behind, where it made a satisfying _thwack_ noise upon contact. The boys were left wondering which was louder - the crack of the towel, or Percconte’s high pitched yelp as it stung at ass. Laughing at him as they slowly filtered into their own stalls for the military standard two minute shower, Bull gave him a sympathetic clap on the back as he pushed him into one of the stalls before him.  
"Now lads, you better get nice and clean for the lady." Luz called over the roar of the showers, putting on a very over the top impression of Miss Vasey to get their attention.

"One must be squeaky clean when meeting with the queen!"

\------------------

"For christ's sake, Bill, would you just shut up already?" Toye groaned. They had been listening to Guarnere complaining all morning. He was still bitter that the rest of the guys were coming out with him and Miss Vasey - even though, admittedly, he did invite them. _Come into town with us,_ he thought bitterly after the march last night. _Shoulda said come into town with me._  
"Look, all I'm sayin is you fellas might scare her off. Ya can't tell me that any of you know how to treat a lady."  
"You do remember I'm married, right?" Pulling out the chain his wedding ring was attached to from underneath his shirt, Martin brandished it towards the private with an incredulous look on his face. He knew he was one of the younger guys, and a lot of them didn’t even have sweethearts yet let alone a wife, _but christ_ \- he was pretty sure he talked about Patty all the time! Either they were intentionally forgetting, or they were just dumb. He assumed it must be the latter.

Guarnere waved his hand dismissively, continuing to shovel scrambled eggs into his mouth and somehow managing not to get anything on his dress uniform. _Just cos you’re married don’t mean you know how to act…_ he thought, knowing better than to say it out loud.  
"’Sides, if anyone's gonna scare her off, it's Hoobler. Kids so clean he's practically reflective." They glanced over to where Hoobler was sat, shuffled down the bench somewhat from the other guys so that they couldn't get food on his uniform. His hair was perfectly combed and pressed down neatly, his buttons were sparking clean, and his boots looked new off the shelf with how brightly polished they were. Martin was right - you _could_ see your reflection in them.  
"Poor fella. He don’t stand a chance.”  
"Not with those ears he don’t." Guarnere snickered.

“Hey Hoob, quit actin so uptight would ya? We ain’t gonna fuss on you before the lady gets to see how nice ya clean up.” Luz sighed, obviously exasperated. They had finally managed to catch up with him after the showers - apparently, he had tried to get in line again after he'd taken his _second_ shower and some of the fellas already inside had kicked him out. He had been sat back at barracks furiously scrubbing at his shoes when they found him, and the walk over to the mess hall had been slow simply due to the fact that Hoobler had wanted to go the long way around - the normal route was too dusty, apparently, and had _just_ gotten the last bit of dirt off of his buttons. The other guys, being as they were his friends, had ribbed him about it the whole way there.  
“Dunno, maybe she likes her fellas a little fussed up.” Skip snickered. "Wanna find out?"  
“Stop hasslin’ me! What’s wrong with wantin’ to look presentable for once, huh?” They rolled their eyes at him as he brushed some imaginary crumbs off of the front of his jacket. Honestly, with how fast he ate sometimes, they were surprised he hadn’t messed himself up - nine times out of ten when he ate he ended up with half of the meal in his lap. _He really must be caught up on this gal,_ Malarkey thought.

“Sides, you guys won’t be able to say nothin' when the miss is cuddlin’ up to me at the pictures instead of you.”  
“I don’t think it’s you she’ll be cuddlin' up to, Hoob.” Malarkey said, casting a glance over to where Guarnere and Bull were sitting, nodding as he caught Bulls eye. Bull raised an eyebrow, quite clearly gesturing to Hoobler with something along the lines _what **does** that boy think he looks like_, but Malarkey could only shrug in response.  
“Well what’s that suppose-”

“Shit. You guys see Sobel circling about out there?” Skip hissed, cutting Hoobler off and ducking his head down to not be seen. Sure enough, the Lt. was pacing back and forth in front of the mess hall doors with a perturbed look on his face, completely ignoring the disarray of men inside. Someone in the hall whooped - something that, in Sobel's presence, usually meant a pass was about to be revoked - but he didn’t even flinch.  
“Somethin’ must be botherin’ him for him to not even come in here.” Malarkey said.  
“I guess least we know that he ain’t dead or nothin'.” Luz commented, shrugging and turning back around to keep eating his breakfast. He hadn’t really been that speculative as to the Lieutenant's whereabouts. In all honesty, he just didn’t really care; unlike Bull, who had been complaining about the man non stop since he got on his case a couple of weeks ago about a tiny scratch on his helmet. Sometimes it was funny to march next to the bigger man and listen to him moan on about the Lt. - other times it was just downright exhausting.

Malarkey gestured towards Bull, cocking his head to the outside and watching the larger mans face as he, too, turned himself to see the Lt. His expression dropped as he quickly spun back around to alert Guarnere, who in turn scowled and slammed his fork down onto his tray.  
"Watch, he's gonna come in right now and revoke everyone's passes. Don't know why I fuckin' bother…" He grumbled.  
"Bill, wouldya calm down? Look, he ain’t even lookin in here. If he was gonna take ya pass he'd just march right in here an' do it instead a' pussyfootin' about outside." Martin said.  
And it was true. There had been times in the past where, if Sobel had been feeling particularly bad that day, he would pick a private - usually poor Smokey Gordon - to take his wrath out on. If the private didn’t notice him fast enough, salute him fast enough or bark _yes sir_ loud enough, his pass would revoked at the very _least_. The worst was when he zeroed in on Popeye a few weeks ago, and he didn’t turn around because he thought it was Luz doing an impression… safe to say, poor Popeye became very familiar with the intimate details of every latrine on base _very_ quickly.

By this point there was no way the Lieutenant didn’t notice a full mess hall of privates staring at him. Still, he made no move to enter - nor did he even spare a glance in their direction. If he noticed the entire canteen staring at him, he wasn’t showing it. The men noticed Winters appear from the left of him. They shared a quick salute before Sobel gestured for the other Lieutenant to follow and they both disappeared from view.  
“You seen those two out there?” Perconte finally arrived, dropping down his tray and making himself comfortable in the considerable gap between Hoobler and Luz. “Whatcha think they’re takin about?”  
“Would you quit stickin ya nose in all the time? You’re worse than my ma.” Luz shook his head. Perconte shrugged, gulping his coffee down as he broke up the slab of scrambled eggs on his tray with a fork. “I just wanna know what’s goin' on out there, that’s all!” He countered, now on the defensive, and gestured quite violently to the outside with his right hand.

The hand that was still holding the fork piled high with scrambled eggs.

The force of it sent egg flying in one single direction - right onto poor Hoobler's recently-cleaned jacket and all across his face. The younger private jumped up with a strangled yelp, looking from his now ruined uniform to Perconte who was still happily inhaling his scrambled eggs like nothing had happened.  
“Out of everyone, Perconte, how did I know it’d be you that would ruin my look!” He whined, frantically trying to brush the sticky egg off of his uniform and ruining it more in the process. He cast one more bitter glance towards Perconte before wiggling out from the row of benches and setting off back towards the barracks in near full-pelt sprint.

“Oh, good going, Perconte.” Skip groaned, slapping him upside the head.  
  
_“Ey, what’d I do?”_

\------------------

With breakfast over, the men gathered what cash they had and headed for the line of parked jeeps on the east side of camp. Bull was happy to notice that the weather seemed to have improved somewhat since his wake up - it was still overcast, but the grey sky gave way to the occasional ray of light as the sun broke through the clouds. It wasn’t cold by any means; this was Georgia, after all, known for hot and humid weather most of the year around. In any case, he was used to some heat. Being a born and bred Arkansas boy would be the cause of that. The other boys, though… Some were from so far north they were almost Canadian. And as much as he’d gotten used to the stink of their sweat, he’d rather not subject Miss Vasey to it too, not on a nice day out such as this.

Guarnere, as eager as he was, practically vaulted himself into the driver's seat of a jeep. Toye called shotgun, as per usual, and Hoobler, seeing Perconte heading for the other car, decided that Guarnere was probably the safer bet if he wanted to get there relatively unscathed - he climbed into the back seat and fixed his cap back down flat, only to have Liebgott almost whack it entirely off of his head as he tripped on the step up and fell into him. Perconte, Luz and Skip - all being relatively small, considering - jumped into the second jeep behind Malarkey and Bull. To call it a squeeze would be an understatement.  
"Hey Bull, you want to drive?" Malarkey asked.  
"I wouldn't mind it." Truth is, he missed driving around. Back in Arkansas he'd drive his pa's old chevy truck about, learnt to drive when he was only young - he was a big kid after all, it was easy for him to reach the pedals. He hadn't really driven properly since he moved away a couple of years ago. Malarkey knew he missed it, all the boys did. It was one of the things he never stopped complaining about.

Hoobler, patting the creases out of his pants, gave Liebgott the side eye as he spread himself out next to him.  
“We’re in no rush Bill, let’s drive nice and careful.” He said.  
“Hoobler, ya know careful is my middle name.” Starting the ignition, Guarnere turned around to Hoobler and gave him a cheeky wink. Suddenly the private had a horrible sinking sensation in his stomach.  
“EY BULL! RACE YA!” Guarnere pulled the clutch and careened forward, wheels spinning on the gravel for just a second before finding purchase and shooting the card forward, Hoobler yelling as they raced away. The remaining boys broke out into laughter at the sight - _poor Hoob_! Guarnere was notorious for being a boy racer, along with Malarkey and Christenson. The boy had barely even got his license before he joined up.  
  
Their laughter was cut short when Luz spotted Lt. Winters fast approaching. He elbowed Perconte and Skip and quickly straightened, raising his arm into a salute. The other boys, noticing him almost too late, followed suit. The Lt. reciprocated, doing a quick salute and coming to rest by the side of the Jeep. He rested his elbows on the driver side door, staring into the distance at the other, quickly disappearing, Jeep.  
“I’ve heard you're off into town." Winters stated.  
"That's right, Sir."  
"...With a certain Miss Vasey." He gave them a look. They glanced at one another, worry clear on their faces. Perhaps this is what he and Sobel had been talking about this morning?

"Look, I'm not gonna stop you from going." Winters said. "I just wanted to say you better be careful." The boys nodded vigorously - careful was going to be their new favourite word.  
“Some of the higher ups aren’t happy about this as it is. They’re only letting you go because it’s Miss Vasey and not Captain Wood. So on your best behavior for her, okay?” Winters studied their faces for a second longer, and with a sigh pushed back off of the door and out of the way of the jeep.  
“And can you make sure Guarnere doesn’t come back into base that fast?” He said, exasperation clear in his voice. Malarkey and Bull smiled at him.  
“Will do sir.” Malarkey said. Bull nodded at the Lieutenant as he set off at a much more reasonable pace down the track off of base. Soon, they were driving past the barricade that marked the entrance, turning down the dirt road that would eventually lead into town.

The boys were quiet until they had gotten a decent distance away from base. Turning around to make sure Winters was just an unrecognizable figure behind them, Perconte grinned and spoke up.  
“Ah, it feels weird to be going on a date again.” He mused, awkwardly trying to rest his hands behind his head - he was wedged between Luz and the door, after all - and leaning back as much as he could in the back seat of the jeep. Luz elbowed him in response and tried to wiggle back into a comfortable position.  
“Yeah, probably cuz you’re not goin on a date, Perco.” He grumbled.  
“Ey, shut up, you know what I mean. Goin out where a girl is involved.”  
“What happened the last time ya went out with a gal? She run screamin home?” Skip snickered.

“Just cos girls run from you, Skip, don’t mean they run from me. We had a very pleasant time, thank you very much - had plans to see her again but got shipped out to this stinkhole before I could make good on em.” Unlike some of the other Easy boys, didn’t have a sweetheart back home. Part of him wanted to be disappointed - fellas who had girls at home always said that their sporadic reunions after basic training were always well worth the wait, and he would certainly _love_ to enjoy that - but the rational part usually won out in the end. He already had to worry about how his family would react if something were to happen to him; he didn’t want to think about what poor girl he’d be leaving behind, too. It was the same for most of the men.

“Girls can run from me aaaaaalllll they want. I’ve got the only gal I’ll ever need back home.” Skip sighed, giving his breast pocket a quick pat.  
“Who, Faye?”  
“Yes, Perc, Faye. The girl he hasn’t shut up about for weeks.” Malarkey said.  
“I dunno, he might be seein’ a lotta girls." He defended himself. Malarkey rolled his eyes - not that anyone noticed. It was a pretty dumb question to be asking considering Skip whipped his girls photo out whenever he got chance.

“She kinda reminds me of this girl I was sweet on in highschool.” Luz mused, taking his cap off and smoothing his hair down as they rounded the end of the glorified dirt path Bill had long ago disappeared down. They could still see the impressions in the roadside where he had taken the corner a bit too hard.  
“Oh yea? What was she like?” Malarkey turned in his seat to face him.  
“She’s called Josie, she used to bake cookies and bring em to homeroom when I was a freshman. Haven’t seen her since I dropped out to help my ma, though. Think she was tryin’ to be a seamstress, or somethin’. I never really asked..."  
"My ma's a seamstress." Bull commented. The men’s heads whipped to face him - this was news to them! They assumed he was a country boy, born and bred, and with him coming from the semi-rural south that wasn’t such an incorrect assumption to make.

"I thought you was a farm boy, Bull?" Luz said.  
"My pa is, and I grew up on one. But Ma's side comes from the city."  
“Wouldnta guessed that.” There was a beat of silence. Out of all the conversations they’d had so far - about baseball, their jobs, why they decided to become a paratrooper - none of them had really wanted to go _too_ personal. A good rule of thumb was if they started talking about their families or their gals first, it was fair game. Otherwise, don’t mention it.

"What about you then, Bull? Got any sweethearts back home?" Perco probed as he leant forward now to stick his face between Bull and Malarkey's.  
"Nah." He shook his head, slowing down to navigate the bumps in the road more smoothly. They would probably end up being late this way, but he didn’t mind so much - he was sure Guarnere could keep the gal entertained until they showed up.  
"No ladies - you're kidding me!" Skip exclaimed.  
"Big strapping guy like you? I'd think the girls would be throwin’ themselves all over ya!"  
"Well shit, there were a couple'a girls I was sweet on in school.” Bull said, shrugging. “But after I dropped out, an’ moved out to Michigan, I had other things on my mind."

The depression had hit when Bull was still in highschool, and like many others - Toye, Luz and Liebgott to name a few - he had dropped out before graduation to find work in an effort to provide for his family. If money was tight on the farm before, it was almost non-existent now, and any work he’d been able to find had been a godsend. That’s why he'd had to move to Michigan, that’s why he took that job in the foundry, and that’s why he had joined the paratroopers. The extra fifty dollars a month meant his pa wasn’t gonna have to break his back in the fields as often as he had been, and he hoped the money he sent back was helping, even just a little. He made a quick mental note of writing home soon as the conversation quickly drifted to other topics.

The overgrown roads began to give way to more maintained streets as they approached the main boulevard of the town proper. Toccoa used to be a sleepy town - the most action it had seen in the previous ten years was when the Ferris wheel from the county's traveling fair broke down with the Mayor stuck at the top. But, as it does with all things, war changed that. Now the town was swarming with servicemen; officers and enlisted alike were lazily ambling about, trying to decide if they should spend their money on a film, drink, or at some back alley poker game. Certainly they wouldn’t get many other opportunities to enjoy their paycheck in the coming months, _especially_ if they got sent off to the Pacific.

Malarkey and Luz hooted as they passed a couple of Dog company boys, each with a different girl hooked around their arm who giggled as they drove past. Perconte frowned back at them and crossed his arms over his chest. "How come dog company gets a lady _each_ while Easy is all sharin one?"  
"Jesus, Perco, don't say it like that." Malarkey winced, turning around to give the older private a look. He held his hands up in mock surrender.  
“Makes it seem like we’re doing something foul with her.”  
A quick honk cut through their chatter as they approached the other Easy boys - they had parked right next to the town square, not where they usually parked, and Bull would have sailed right past them had they not gotten his attention. He pulled the clutch and reversed in behind them.  
  
"What, you boys take a trip to Washington on your way over? What took ya so long?" Flicking a cigarette from his fingers, Guarnere sauntered up to the back of the truck and gave the guys a friendly hand down. Catching Percos eye, he motioned behind him - where Hoobler was still frantically trying to pat down his hair and dust off his uniform after almost being thrown from the Jeep due to Guarnere’s reckless driving.  
"Hey, we were carrying more weight than you. We had Percontes fat head to account for."

"You seen the little lady yet?" Bull asked as he hopped out of the jeep.  
"Nah. And she was supposed to meet us here…" Liebgott pushed his sleeve up to show his watch.  
"Five minutes ago."  
"I thought the limeys were supposed to be punctual?" Guarnere grumbled.  
"Have you even looked?" Malarkey asked.  
"Yes we've looked! You see any broads around here in khaki, let alone limey ones? Sides, not like we're hard to miss. She could see us perfectly well."  
"Maybe she stood us up…"

Bull frowned. She didn't seem the type to ditch something like this - at least not without prior warning. He turned his eyes over to the grassy square. The town of Toccoa was a far cry from the camp itself - that was all greys and dull beige, mixed with a heady amount of blood, sweat and cigarette smoke; and while it was tolerable, it didn’t exactly make for a very pleasant environment. Looking now at the viridescent greens and dark earthy browns the square, he was reminded what it felt like to be human again, to be an individual - if just for a moment. Shaking the thought from his head, he tried to focus on searching for their missing Brit. For the most part the area was packed with women and small children enjoying the sunshine, mothers bouncing babies on their laps and younger children running around playing games. A few older gentlemen had commandeered some of the benches, claiming the space to read the morning paper, and he spotted a couple of young boys daring each other to jump down from the branches of an admittedly small tree some distance away. It was busy, he'd give the guys that. But not busy enough that someone was impossible to spot.

"You boys mus be shittin' me…" Bull grumbled, shaking his head and fixing his hat down on his head as he strode off to the center of the square.  
“Where does he think hes goin?”  
The Easy boys watched him go, squinting to try and figure out where he was headed.  
"I swear we looked over there bout a dozen times!" Hoobler said.  
"Maybe he's more eager to find the gal than you are, Hoob."

Bull was apprehensive as he approached. The woman was turned away from him - he couldn't be _certain_ it was her at a glance, although he did have a very good feeling that it was their girl. She wasn't in her day uniform like they expected her to be. Not that Bull minded in the slightest, mind you, but it would have made her easier to pick out of a crowd. She had on a wide brimmed straw sunhat, angled just-so to keep the sun off of her face, and a pale blue day dress that stopped just past her knee. Her legs were crossed at the ankles in a classic "duchess slant" and Bull noticed a flip notebook balanced on her knee. _Yea, that's our girl,_ he thought.

"Good morning, Ma'am." He rounded to stand in front of her. She was reading from a small book, the cover folded backwards so she could more easily read one-handed. He noticed it had scribbles down the margin and looked very well used - he wondered what it was for. The notepad, however, was nothing new.  
"Morning, Bull. I thought I told you lads to not call me that." She grinned up at him, snapping the book closed before he could get a good look at it. He gave her a gentle smile in return and offered his hand to help her up.  
"If you don't like Charlie, Charlotte is fine. Or Lottie. Lord, even _Lola_ is better than _Miss Vasey_ or _ma'am_."  
"I'll keep that in mind." She let out a quiet laugh, folding up her pad and sliding it into her purse along with the book. Her palms were warm as she grasped at his hand - they were harder than he thought they'd be, rough fingertips scratching at his skin for just a second before she linked her arm through his and motioned towards the Easy boys.  
"Well then. Onward to Miss Ginger?"  
"That's the plan."

They had taken just a few steps when he pulled his gaze away from the miss and stared towards his comrades - and was quickly reminded of a certain privates efforts earlier in the morning, considering said private was still trying to right himself.  
"Miss Lottie?" She tilted her head to look at him.  
"Yes?" _Already caught the sun_ , he thought, giving himself a moment to scrutinize the darker array of freckles that now adorned half of her face. Reluctantly he pulled his eyes away when an eyebrow was quirked at him - _ask your question, then_.  
"Could I ask ya a favor?"  
"You can certainly _ask_ , although I can't guarantee I will oblige you." She winked at him.

"Our pal Hoob over there, he's been real excited to see ya, got himself cleaned up all nice too. Think ya could talk to him some? Think he'd really 'preciate it."  
"I'm flattered." She said - and she seemed genuinely so. He watched her glance over to Hoobler, blushing softly, and saw him give a small but obviously excited wave in her direction. _Maybe he did stand a chance_ , after all.  
"Of course I'll talk to him, if he's gone to all that effort just for me what kind of a girl would I be if I ignored him?" Bull nodded to himself. _That's that, then,_ he thought.  
  
"I must say though, it's not just Hoobler who's cleaned up well. All you boys look rather dashing in your number twos." She continued, not really thinking about what she was saying as she surveyed the line of men waiting for her. With widening eyes, she looked up at Bull - his raised eyebrows told her that yes, she had indeed said that out loud, and with that realization her light pink blush deepened to a heavy red.  
"I mean, that is to say you look a great deal different than you usually do. For the most part when I see you lads, you're covered head to toe in dirt, or in your training gear. It does make quite a difference."  
"Could say the same about you, Miss. We thought you'da been in ya khakis." She grimaced.  
"And have all of Toccoa stare at me? Please."

_Half of em are staring at ya anyways…_

"I've already had a comment about my lack of stockings - we’re at war, for god's sake, I’d rather have my nylon used for parachutes - and I absolutely refuse to _don the glamour hose._ " He laughed, casting a quick glance down towards her legs. She was telling the truth - her legs were devoid of nylons or gravy browning, and while personally he didn't care _what_ she wore on her legs, he can't imagine it endeared her to the rest of the female population to not at least _pretend_ she still had stockings.  
“Ain’t like my ma then. She’d pitch a fit if ya told her she’d hafta’ leave the house without paintin’ her stockings on.” Eyes crinkling at the corners, she smiled up at him and opened her mouth to reply when a shout from the men ahead cut her off.

"Ey Miss Vasey, this hick botherin ya? You dunno how these southern boys can be, no idea how to act around a lady." Bill interrupted as he wiggled through the throng of Easy boys smoking around the jeep to approach her and Bull. She unhooked herself from Bull's arm and straightened her dress out - not missing the sly glances the men shared when her head was angled away.  
“Not in the slightest." She turned her head to look up at Bull, letting her smile stretch further across her face as he grinned down at her. Her cheeks were still dusted a light pink.  
“Hello, lads. I hope the morning is treating you well.” She greeted, making sure to cast her gaze across each of the assembled men, who returned her greeting with broad smiles of their own - for the most part.  
“It’s mighty swell now that you’re here, Miss Vasey.” Hoobler said.  
"Oh, you flatter me. But I was _just_ saying to Bull here how I am loath to be called Miss Vasey! Would it be easier for you if I were to use your names?”

“Do you even remember ‘em?” Guarnere joked.  
“I thought you’d have more faith in me, Bill.” She winked at him.  
"I have plenty a' faith in ya. Just don't think the rest of these guys are as memorable as me, is all." He laughed, slapping a hand down on Hooblers shoulder as the other private winced.

"Could I carry your purse for you, Miss?"  
"You can do more than that, Donald." Hooblers ears went red as she extended her purse to him.  
"I'm afraid I'm not sure where the picturehouse is - care to escort me?"  
"Wh-yeah, yeah sure! It's just this way." Gladly taking his offered elbow she quickly fell into step with him, and before the boys knew it they had already disappeared halfway down the street.  
"Area you lads coming?" She called over her shoulder. A chorus of _yes ma’ams!_ and _wait up_ followed as they hurried to put out their cigarettes and catch up.

"I still don't see what you guys see in her." Liebgott grumbled, dropping his smoke and crushing it under his heel. _You might not be able to_ , Bull thought as he watched her walk away, laughing and smiling as she joked around with Hoobler.  
_But I sure as shit am starting to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been a good long while! I'm sorry for not writing sooner - been a bit of a hectic time for me lately. This chapter got WAY out of hand, originally I had planned for the whole 'date' to take place this chapter but it didn't feel like enough setup beforehand. Hope you like it, feel free to leave any comments or crit, I appreciate everything!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I'm new to this fandom but really wanted to get my ideas for this story down - there will be a pairing in the not-so distant future... wonder if you can figure out with who! :D


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